


Someone Will Be There, That I Know

by Bisexual_Bean



Series: Stained Hands, Pink Water [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Again please take care and love yourself, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne Tries, But he's real bad at it and can go suck an egg, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian still says NO, Dick Grayson Tries to Be a Good Older Sibling, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, I hope I made y'all proud??, If I see a single thing about slash in the comments Ima loose my shit, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, THESE BOYS ARE BROTHERS AND WE LOVE THEM, This wasn't in the plan, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Whump, Tim Drake-centric, Tims still a salty bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexual_Bean/pseuds/Bisexual_Bean
Summary: 2 months have passed since the afternoon Damian found Tim, cold and limb and numb, in a bathtub, bleeding out.2 months since he was forced into a hospital, screamed at Bruce and Dick (Who he still thinks deserved it along with a few punches), and had an...interesting conversation with Damian.2 months since he still refused to speak a word to his supposed 'family', found a new apartment, and moved in with Steph.It sounds cliché to say a lot has happened.But a lot has happened.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: Stained Hands, Pink Water [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896937
Comments: 48
Kudos: 305





	1. Chapter 1

2 months have passed since the afternoon Damian found Tim, cold and limb and numb, in a bathtub, bleeding out.

2 months have passed since he was forced into a hospital, screamed at Bruce and Dick (Who he still thinks deserved it along with a few punches), and had an...interesting conversation with Damian.

2 months since he still refused to speak a word to his supposed 'family', found a new apartment, and moved in with Steph. 

It sounds cliché to say a lot has happened.

But a lot has happened.

Steph squeezes his cheeks between her two flat palms, pale eyes appearing nearly white from how the setting light from behind him shined back in them.

"Now listen here mister. If I come back from this trip, and your smart ass _isn't_ on that couch, watching a cheesy rom-com movie or one of your weird documentary's, I will personally _hunt you down_ you hear me?"

Tim rolled his eyes, leaning back away from her and thus leaning back from the abuse on his cheeks, "Yes Mom. Now get going, your professors already not happy to be going on this trip, the least you could do for her is make the whole class not be late."

Stephanie's eyes melt as they watch him, still raised hands slowly lowering to her sides.

"We've only been here a little while ago... I'm ..." She runs a hand through her hair (She spent an hour on that today, she's gonna regret just messing it up later), "I'm worried about you. If it wasn't mandatory I go I would stay..."

Tim shook his head, reaching forward (Despite everything in his brain telling him not to) and grabbed her hands, "I'll be fine Steph. I'll just be here, watching stupid movies and eating junk food. It's just like it would be when you are here with me."

Stephanie snorts, wet eyes tilting to meet his, "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

Tim pauses before saying, 'I promise."

Her smile returns and she wraps him up in one more tight hug before finally shuffling towards the door.

"I'll call and text everyday to keep you updated. And no wild parties! if I hear a single complaint from the neighbors when I get back you're grounded!"

Tim huffs a short laugh, leaning back against the arm of the couch, "You're the only one the neighbors complain about Steph. Now seriously, get going."

She nods, hand on the doorknob mid-turn, before glancing over her shoulder.

"Tim?"

He tilts his head, "Hmm?"

"I love you, you know that right?"

He lets the silence stretch on for a few long seconds, "Of course."

Another nod, though this one seeming more for herself than for him, before she opens the door and shuts it behind her.

And Tim lets out the deep sigh that's been trapped in his chest since he woke up this morning.

Falling back, he collapses over the arm behind him to sink into the cushions, head just managing to land on the pillow still there from last nights 'Going Away Movie Date'.

_ She's acting like she's going away forever and not just a few weeks.  _ O ne part of his brain says.

_ You act like she didn't just here from you for the first time in who knows how long a little over a month ago, and found out you tried to kill yourself.  _ A nother part of his brain snaps back.

_O h shut up._

He stares at the ceiling, cars bustling about outside his window, and if he listens hard enough he can almost hear the baby from a few apartments down crying.

It really has been a whole month huh?

The apartment they moved into was nice. Not as nice as his previous but Steph always had something against the more...luxurious apartments, and insisted they find a more humble place if they would be living together.

And not that Stephanie isn't great! There's a reason he dated her in the first place, so long ago...

But every time he looked at her he's just reminded of her 'death'. How she willingly left him alone, while the rest of his world was crumbling around him. He thinks of her connection to the Bats. How, despite her not even wearing the mask while she's in college, he knows she's been talking to Dick on the side. Updating he and the others on Tim's 'condition.'

It's disgusting.

A scowl settles across his face as he pushes himself up. Sure, in order to leave the hospital without an immediate transfer to a ward he had to have a live in member to watch him, but that doesn't mean he had to tell them all of his secrets and emotions.

Tim makes sure to check his apartment for any hidden bugs or cameras before entering his room. Forcing his bed back the couple inches needed, he reaches into a secret department and grabs a hold of the suit that has been screaming his name every night Steph forces him to go to bed.

After all, Tim's been planning this for weeks, and managing to make the visit to several neighboring citie's hospitals mandatory was the start of it all.

When he had first returned to his apartment, about 2 weeks after the 'incident' the bathroom mat had been removed.

Along with everything that could have ever linked him to the vigilante life style.

Cases disappeared from where they had once sat on his nightstand, papers and files vanishing from his desk, the batarangs he had stuffed between the couch cushions and under his pillows and taped to the belly of the kitchen sink.

Even his suit. That he worked so hard on. That he made into his own after everything.

Gone.

Little did they know

That Tim always hid a spare.

The Kevlar rubbed against his skin as he slid it on, falling baggy in some places which only told him he would have to fix it when he got back in tonight.

Word around the streets claim that the Dorian family is doing a weapons trade with an out of city vendor at 3 tonight, which gives him 4 hours to do a normal patrol of his area, and a half an hour to make it to the docs.

And hopefully avoid any other bats that might be running the rooftops.

He grins.

_As if they would even be able to catch me._

And swinging between the buildings, slipping along alley was and up fire escapes, Tim flew for the first time in months.

Everything was going to be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything was not fine.

During his...absence, it seemed as though the bats welcomed themselves to his normal patrol routes, going as far as to talk to his informants and tell them he had dropped the mask.

Alexis (Who always insisted on pinching his treats and somehow managed to always hide sweets in the pockets of his suit) was surprised to see him when he arrived at her normal corner.

 _"One of the bats said you were hurt real bad and wouldn't be coming around no more"_

He had been quick to quell her concerns, claiming he was on more of a forced vacation and has returned for the time being. One big 'welcome back hug' and a sharp pinch of the cheek later he was soaring through the skies again.

Aside from the first few bumps here or there, becoming reacquainted with his normal ledges, saying hi to Tommy, his favorite gargoyle, and finding a chunk of his left ear missing, going to his favorite late night coffee shop and finding out they still remember his regular, but that his favorite counter kid was gone (A college student who always had a different name tag on every time he came in to order), things went relatively smooth for his first night back.

Which should have told him something was wrong.

He was just arriving at the Dorian families set trade location, only when he actually got there (2 minutes early mind you) there wasn't a car in sight.

He had frowned, obviously confused. Tim knew plenty about the Dorian family. Their eldest abandoned the family at 16 and moved to metropolis, the 'runner' of the family was a 2nd cousin who was struggling to pay off his rent due to a gambling problem, the leader of the family was named Amelia, and in a strange way held Tim's respect for never letting anyone (Including Batman) boss her around. They all have been arrested at least twice, yet due to a rich relative, of which Tim always suspected Amelia's grandfather, who lived over seas always paid bail.

He also knew they weren't one for traps. Or being late.

So, after waiting 15 more minutes he shimmied down from his perch on the west building, cautious and aware just in case this _was_ a trap and the Dorians' were getting even more slippery than they already were.

But the area was completely vacant.

Until a moving shadow caught his eye.

"Red." 

The name came out almost sounding...bitter, and Tim clenched his jaw to keep from flinching.

"Leave me alone Batman," Was his reply, grapple shooting out and pulling him up to the roof. He hoped that would be the end of it, but Tim never was good at getting what he wanted.

Batman had easily followed him, white lenses staring him down.

"What do you think you are doing?" The man growled.

Tim snorted, "My job? Ya know, the one you _trained me for_ when I was _13_? Which would be a lot easier to do if you just stayed out of my business, because I'm guessing your the reason the Dorians' aren't around tonight."

Batman took a step forward, the bat on his chest rising with every harsh breath, "You tried to kill yourself Red!"

"But I didn't," He snapped back. In the back of his mind, Tim was thanking his gloves for being the only thing stopping his nails from digging into the palms of his hands, "You have no right to decide what's good for me and what's not. You're not my dad!"

The call out caught the man off guard, "T-"

"If you hadn't noticed," Tim continued, "My dad died 2 years ago," The weight on his chest somehow managed to get heavier, "Then both of my best friends died. One after the other. Then my girlfriend faked her death."

He turns, hoping the white lenses of his own mask bore into Batman as much as Batman's bore into him.

"And then you, the one person who had _promised_ never to leave me alone, left. You left and no one believed me when I said you were still alive."

A bitter laugh pushed passed his lips and he ran a steady hand ran through his hair, "Everyone thought I was crazy! After Dick fired me he threatened to sent me to Arkham. _A_ _rkham_ Batman. Ya know, the place we sent the worst villains' and criminals of the bunch?"

Tim sneered, baring his teeth and he couldn't tell if he imagined Batman flinching back at the look on his face or not, "So I left. I left my family, my team. Gotham. I faced off against countless enemies by myself, faced Ra's Ah Ghul, lost my _spleen_ , nearly died hundreds of times just to bring you back. To set things _right._

Tim turned his back to the man, "And when I did?" A pause, "you didn't even say thank you."

Silence stretched between the two of them before Batman-not Bruce-Batman cleared his throat.

"Tim...I'm sor-"

"I don't want your apology!" He screamed, voice touch and cracking, and threw a batarang at him.

Batman easily dodged, eyes wide behind the lenses.

"I don't want your hugs or your emotionally constipated touches. I don't want to see your face anywhere near me ever again. I've grown passed you, stronger than you, smarter than you. I don't need your acceptance to live the rest of my life Bruce, despite what you might think your kid soldiers don't need you to survive. I mean, look how happy Dick and the Demon got along before you came back."

He knew the words stung.

They were meant to.

But that 13 year old that always insisted on thriving in the back of his head yelled at him. Insisted the words coming from his own mouth were just in the moment of anger, nothing more.

But Tim knew better than to listen to that voice anymore.

"I'm _done_ Bruce. I can't play your game anymore. We both know there's no winning for anyone in it."

Batman for once seemed at a lost for words. His chest was no longer puffed out in a sign of strength, but instead his whole form was ever so slightly hunched in on himself, as though Tim literally punched the air out of his lungs.

"P...Please-"

But Tim didn't want to hear another word. He jumped off the buildings edge in front of him, grapple in his hand, and shot just a second before he would have hit the ground.

Returning home left like returning from a war.

Nothing in the apartment felt completely right, like it belonged there, compared to the grim and filth that covered Gotham's streets.

His bed felt to comfortable when he collapsed into it, managing to strip out of his uniform and tuck it back into its secret department.

After all, he had therapy tomorrow, and knew a couple of Bats would try to get into his house and find it. And we couldn't have that could we?

 _it's because they don't trust you_ A voice in his head sighs.

_Of course they don't trust me. I'm not blindly following them anymore, they have no control over me and that intimidates them._

_That scares them._

Tim sighs.

 _let it._

Tim glances out the window a small ways from his bed. The curtains shifting and pulling from the slight breeze being let in. Darkness mixed with flickers of light from the streets below.

Tim felt eyes watching him from the shadows.

_I'm not afraid of you anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters should hopefully be getting longer soon, I'm trying to pace this out in a way what makes more sense than just posted mush. But I hope you guys are still enjoying!


	3. Chapter 3

"You look tired." 

It was the first thing Caroline insisted on pointing out once they entered the room. Like Tim wasn't _always_ tired.

"Rough night," Simple. Vague.

Caroline hummed, clasping her hands together in her lap on top of her clip board, "Would you like to talk about your 'rough night' today?"

"Not really," He huffed, resting his chin in his palm, elbow on the arm of the sofa he sat on.

His therapist tilted her head to the side, dark hazel eyes studying him in a way he had thought Bruce was only capable of before meeting her, freeing bob cut shifting with the movement, long painted nails (Mom used to keep them just as long) tapping against her own arm.

"You know Tim, Your father told me about your...nightly activities. And while I know you've retired from that-" Her voice somehow managed to keep the same softness while instantly turning stern '-You can still talk about that time here. I'm sure it was very stressful for you."

Tim bit the inside of his cheek in order to not snap back at her. _Bruce Wayne isn't my father._ He wanted to say. _You dont know_ shit _about the things I've gone through, the things I've seen._

A shifting of legs, "I'm not a dentist Timothy. I'm not here to pull teeth."

While his brain was running with replies to _that_ statement, a "mhm" was his only response. 

She skims through her notes.

"I really wish these sessions were more than just one sided conversations. "

_Yo u're getting paid either way arn't you?_

"I'm sure you do." 

She sighed, glancing back over her shoulder at the clock. Tim hates it when she sighs. He also hates the ticking of the annoying clock that reminds him of high school. 

Caroline must see something when her eyes return to him because her whole form softens considerably, "Would having someone in here with you help? Bruce? Your brother would be willing from what I've heard. You're still living with stephanie right?" As if Tim would even be allowed to live my himself right now, "You could bring her?"

He sends her a look, eyes narrowing before looking away again.

She jots something down on her clip board. 

He really hates therapy.

"What about medication? I know you kinda shot that idea down in the past, but have you reconsidererd trying?"

Batman's voice rings in his ears _drugs cloud the mind Robin._

His moms voice scoffs in disgust M _edication Timothy? Truly my son doesn't need some...pill to act civilized._

Caroline pushes her square shaped glasses further up on her nose, "Tim."

He raises an eyebrow in her direction.

"Tim..." Another sigh. Tim wants to throat punch her, "Are you here right now?"

_ I'm sitting right in front of you arn't I? _

He hums another reply and she frowns, leaning forward until the gap between them is slightly smaller. She seems unbothered by his sneer.

"I want you to go home ok? Get some rest. It's obvious what we are trying isn't working."

"You're dropping my case?" He couldn't hold back the spark of happiness at her words. She frowns.

Tim never seen a sadder, more disappointing look in his whole life, "No, I'm not giving up on you Tim."

_ Because Bruce is probably paying you a fuck ton of money to keep your mouth shut. _

As though reading his thoughts (Maybe he will have to look into her to see if she's a mind reader later) she continues, " _because_ you are an amazing, intelligent, smart young man. You has been through more than someone should ever have to go through. And I want to help the person who has helped so many others, learn to help _himself_. Because you deserve it Tim," Her hands shook like she wanted to touch him, hug him, possibly hold his hand as they stared at each other. He knew she wouldn't and couldn't, but he curled away anyways.

She leaned back at his discomfort, "I'll see you in a few days alright?"

He nodded.

The moment he left the building he felt eyes on him

Tim knew it couldn't be the news. Bruce had actually used his common sense for once and picked a therapist that lived outside of Gotham. Meaning a very low risk of someone seeing him leaving a therapists office and connecting him to the famous Tim Drake from Gotham City.

But if it wasnt the news that was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up...

"Drake."

Tim took a deep inhale.

"What do you want Damian."

There was a quiet 'tt' before the demon appeared at his side, shades being pushed back to the top of his head.

"I'm simply taking a little stroll."

"An hour and a half away from Gotham?"

"You have no right to tell me when or where I may take a walk."

Tim held back a growl, running a hand through his hair before he started down the street to his car.

Damian matched his pace, the little brat.

"Have you been eating?" Damian inquired and Tim clenched his jaw.

"Steph's been attempting new dishes almost every night."

"Not what I asked."

Tim stopped before he reached his car, turning to Damian on his heel and throwing his hands in the air, "What do you want from me Damian? I let them visit me in the hospital. I'm going to therapy-" He motioned back to the building about a block away, "-I'm doing what you so gracefully demanded while I was trapped in that bed."

The smaller of the two set a hand on his waist, "You didn't utter a word the few times Grayson visited you in the hospital. And from your files I can tell you have barely spoken a word since meeting Caroline. She's very concerned."

Tim thinks he saw red for a moment, "You've been looking into my files?"

The hesitation Damian held on his tongue was enough to tell Tim the brat wasn't the only one, "You expect the family not to stay caught up on your well being?"

Tim growled, not even able to get a word out before Damian was speaking again, "And after the state Father returned home in last night I was wise to check in," Green eyes flickered around them, "You went out?"

Tim continues walking, "I can do as I damn well please after what you all put me through."

Damian sighs and Tim's teeth grind together, "Drake. We are going this for your own good."

"No. You're going this for _your_ own good. For Bruce and Dick's own good. Because no one in that fucked up family can stand the thought of another bird leaving the nest."

Damian's gaze hardens. They were stopped outside Tm's car.

"When you return home I expect you to pack a bag. You _will_ be returning to the manor until brown returns."

Tim's eyes widen considerably before narrowing into slits.

"No."

"No is not an option."

"Then I'm _making_ it an option," Tim snarled, opening his driver side door and climbing in, "You and everyone else has no say in what I do. If I want to go out at night I will. You cannot just order me around like some puppet and think I'll do whatever you say."

"Timothy-"

"And another thing," Tim interrupted "Tell Bruce to stay out of my way."

He closed the door, ignoring Damian's insistent pulling of the handle as he locked it, and drove off.

He thought that would be it, at least for the time being. Maybe the Bats would give him a few days to simmer before trying something again. Maybe they would try sending Dick instead, or Barbra. He hasn't seen or heard from her in a while. If he's lucky they won't attempt to put Alfred any where near him. But at least he had time to calm down and plan out his next moves.

Once he entered his apartment though. 

"What. The. Fuck."

The place was trashed.

Each room was thoroughly gone through, clothes spilled onto the floor, desks completely rummaged.

Even his kitchen was a disaster.

Tears stung his eyes as he went through each room, a hand pressed to his mouth.

He should be angry.

He _was_ angry.

Furious even.

But...

This was his _home._ This was the home he shared with Steph. Sure, it's not his apartment, and if he could he would rather live alone, with his pile of cases on his nightstand, and coffee ready for him whenever he so craved it, but until he could figure something else out this was where he was suppose to feel _safe._

And Bruce destroyed that safety.

Tim knew Bruce would try and make their way in for his suit. but ruining his apartment in the process?

He gripped his hair, falling to his knees and curling up.

Tim hoped Bruce was watching on the cameras he knows were placed, listening in on the bugs surely tucked throughout his apartment (he'd have to go hunting for them all later).

"I hate you."

His throat was tight, he found it difficult to swallow.

"You hear me Bruce? I hate you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. For anyone who has never experienced therapy, being unwilling (Or unintentionally unable) to communicate makes it really difficult. I wrote this with a bit of my own experience with my different therapists and just some stuff that I threw in there because why not. All therapy is not like this. MOST therapy is not like this. If you are considering therapy I 100% recommend you going. It can be really enlightening once you find a therapist and a way of therapy you connect and agree with and is very helpful, even if you don't have any mental illnesses! Enjoy, and let me know if I missed anything!


	4. Chapter 4

It was only hours later, after he managed to pick himself off the floor, find every hidden bug and camera and happily crushed them under his heel, did he go into his room and look behind his bed.

It was still there.

A smile, the first of that day, appeared on his lips. Tim would have to change its hiding spot, and up the security on the apartment, but the Bats haven't stopped him yet.

A deep sigh rumbled through his chest as he held the suit close, trying his best to calm the way his hands shook and trembled.

He could still be useful.

He could still do good.

Patrol that night was like punching through a veil of darkness. each swing gave him a new rush of freedom, each bruise gained only managed to ground him further and keep his thoughts from drifting to far away. The same bursting emotion followed through the next two nights. Not what he expected, but not unwelcome either.

Tim knew they were watching him. keeping tabs. Making sure he didn't do anything rash.

At one point on his third night out since his appointment he caught sight of blue sneaking after him, taking down a stray thug here or there when he thought Tim wasn't paying attention (As though Tim _ever_ stopped paying attention).

But not once did Dick actually speak to Tim. Whether that was Dick's choice, or Bruce's, Tim didn't care.

So, with all the silence, call him surprised when instead of blue, green began slinking around in the edges of his vision as he relaxed on the edge of a building.

"Timothy, please get away from the edge."

Tim rolled his eyes. His grapple was on him, he felt no urge to meet the concrete below, but he scooted an inch closer just to be mean.

For just a split second he almost regretted the action, Damian's breath hitching behind him. Only, when Tim glanced over his shoulder, Robin stood stiff and strong like always.

"Nice seeing you here."

Damian shifted from foot to foot. And while he couldn't necessarily see the brat's eyes, he knew Damian was still watching the ledge like it had personally betrayed him.

"Father has asked me to...apologize...for the state of your apartment when you returned home a few days ago."

Again, that burning anger hit his chest and simmered, "Oh really?"

Damian nodded. The smallest of things, "You were not meant to return home for a short while longer, thus not giving him enough time to return it back to normal."

Tim snorted before looking back towards the horizon. He tensed when Damian joined him at his side despite the foot of space the brat made sure to keep between them.

"Grayson has told me I should not demand things of you. That it is wrong. And that both Father and I should be ashamed for looking into your files."

Tim sneered, "What, are you trying to get me to feel bad for Dick now? Because he has to put up with you two?"

The boy next to him actually hesitated, obviously being caught off guard by Tim's reaction, before spewing, "No. I am simply informing you. I thought you would appreciate it."

"I would 'appreciate' being left alone so i can continue my patrol in peace."

"Of which you should not be doing in the first place."

Tim glared at him, "And what gives you the right to say I can't brat? I've been doing this longer than you have, I think I can tell what I can and can't handle."

A sigh, Damian rests his hands in his lap, "You haven't been eating. Sleep has also been coming to you in short spands. I've noticed coffee reappearing within your apartment at a rapidly alarming rate and how you lazily stitched up a cut on your arm from two nights ago."

Tim nearly bit his tongue. They were watching him closer than he thought.

"I had thought our...conversation in the hospital might have softened the wounds you keep so closely bound to your chest. It appears I was wrong," Damian takes a breath and shifts a small bit closer to Tim. Tim wonders how the kids dealing with the close contact himself, if feeling the warmth radiating off a body makes him want to shiver and throw up, "Grayson believes we should leave you to yourself, despite his increasing worry. That forcing you into things will not help."

A pause. 

"I believe force is necessary since you are not willing to help yourself."

"And who gave you the right to force your opinions on me. Who gave Bruce the right to go through my apartment."

"It is because they care," Damian sounded almost confused as he spoke before sobering up, "Because I care."

A few moments pass. Tim feels Damian shift again.

"Yeah? Well I don't care."

The lenses watching him widen. Tim sighs, standing and dusting his uniform off.

"Look brat. I don't know what you want me to say. That I forgive Bruce? That I forgive Dick? That I forgive..." His eyes flicker to Damian who still watches him, "...you?"

He steps away from the ledge, not missing the way Damian nearly sags in relief where he sits, "But I can't. I won't. Not when all they've done to try and gain it is send me to a doctor I cant stand and destroy my apartment because they think I can't be trusted."

Tim wraps his arms around himself and pauses.

Why is he doing this? Having this conversation with the very kid who, not long ago, wanted him dead? Is it because there's no relationship to ruin between them? No way Tim can disappoint Damian further just by speaking his mind?

He doesn't know.

But he continues speaking, "I...I need someone to be there for me. And just when I thought I actually, for the first time in my _life_ had that...I was wrong."

Damian frowns at the words, Tim pays it little mind, "Maybe it's best we just stay separated. You can tell Bruce he doesn't have to worry about me. I already promised Steph she could ground me if I did anything so...I'm still gonna be around I guess."

"Timothy..." Damian's voice is quiet, "One day someone will be there for you. That I know."

Tim smiles -actually _smiles_ -at Damian, "Good to know someone's rooting for me. Even if it is a demon."

He shoots his grapple, tugging it to make sure its secure. "Welp. Time to retire for the night. See ya around Robin."

Tim doesn't wait for Damian's reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda a rushed chapter? I think? we're getting to the solid part of the story and I'm actually a bit nervous I'm going to disappoint you guys, which is really nerve wracking, because I'm pretty proud of this story and I want you guys to enjoy it just as much? But I'm here to see it through to the end one way or another, so this train will still be pushing on even if there are no passengers aboard. Enjoy and let me know if I missed anything!


	5. Chapter 5

"What are you doing here."

Damian raised an eyebrow, "I am joining you for your appointment of course."

No," He states, slowly and clearly. Tim's eyes flick to the door leading to Caroline's office, chest bursting in releif when he discovers she hasn't arrived before returning his sights to the boy sitting in front of him, "You're not."

Damian's eyebrow raises further (A look that is strickingly similar to the look Alfred would always send him after discovering Tim was on his 4th cup of coffee), "I already called to inform Ms. Rover of my addition. I will not back down."

A quiet growl rumbles in his chest as he presses the flat of his palms to his eyes. Just as he was about to forcibly kick the brat out though, the door to their right opened and Caroline stepped out, smile gentle and genuine upon seeing the two of them.

"Boys, its so nice to see you."

_ You just saw me four days ago and it's never nice to see the brat. _

Tim crosses his arms, obviously displeased, as they follow her to her room, waiting until Damian sits (In _his_ normal spot mind you), before slumping into the chair furthest from him.

Caroline watches the whole thing with an emotion Tim couldn't place, "So, Tim," Her head tilted to the side towards Damian, "Why don't you introduce me to your guest?"

He narrows his eyes at her, "He called you this morning didn't he? And you won't let me kick him to the curb so whats the point?"

The smile on her lips stayed at Tim spoke and he struggled to hold back the growl in the back of his throat.

Damian was quick as always, standing and stepping close enough to shake her hand, "Damian. Damian Wayne," He offered a princely smile as he took his seat again, "I'm Timothy's little brother."

Caroline's eyes sparkled in a way that spoke of oppurtunity and grace, hands settled in her lap, "Tim never told me he had a little brother, only reason I knew he had any other family was because of paper work!"

Damian nods along, posture straight and defined compared to Tim's slumped and defensive.

"So," She pauses, hands clasped and features softening, "Do you know why your brother is here today Damian?" Tim knew this was all for show. Knew Caroline knew who (What) Damian was, knew he was more mature than any other 11 year old shes probably ever going to meet.

"I am," Tim catches the hint of tightness in his smile, reminded of the distant look Damian had back in the hospital waiting room when he looks at his eyes, "I'm actually the one who found him."

The declaration startles Caroline as her gaze flickers between them, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sure it must have been hard to see your brother like that."

_ Like he hasn't tried to kill me himself plenty of times. _

Damian is quick to wave her off, "Please, we are here to discuss Timothy, not me."

Caroline pauses for a moment, and Tim watches, almost pleased to know he wasn't the only one she analyzed to such a severe extent, "Of course. Well, I'm afraid I there isn't much to discuss. All in all I find it difficult just getting Tim to speak or react to me."

He feels emerald eyes slide over to him and shivers, hand rubbing his arm.

"Timothy always has been very close chested with his emotions and past. Unfortunately, as I'm sure you are aware of, it's a trait that tends to run in the family."

Tim rolls his eyes, "Yes, I am aware of Tim's old nightly activities. Mr. Wayne has had me sign enough paperwork for me to be aware of what I should be expecting."

"Then you will be pleased to hear he has been going out the past 5 nights."

_ Tattletale. _

Caroline's eyes harden at the words, her smile remaining as she moves her sights to him. The look is so reminiscent of how his mom would look at him after misbehaving at a gala that Tims stomach rolls. He curls up, legs tucking close to him, and instantly her hard gaze melts.

"Tim, you know I wont scold you correct?"

Tim's only responce is to tighten his hold on his legs. After Damian mentioned looking into his files, Tim himself thought he would take a peek. Notes filled with the smallest reactions to different words she had deliveratly spoken, a short cut description on facts Tim knows only Bruce would have been able to get ahold of, such as a small bit about his home life as a child and his relationship with his parents. Before and after their deaths.

Caroline takes his actions in stride, being quick to change the subject, "Does your roomate, Stephanie, know that you've gone back to being Red? At least for the time being?"

Tim gives the slightest shake of his head and hears Damian sigh to his right.

Tim had forgotten for a moment the brat was even there, and the fear that was thrust upon his chest so quick grew, causing him to begin trembling. Damians going to tell Bruce. Bruce is going to corner him and forcibly take the suit away from him.

He jumped, hands siezing in his lap when warmth suddenly presses against his side and he looks up only to catch Damian's small form tucked against his hip, acting as a solid weight.

"Ms. Rover," Damian begins, his left hand twitching momentatily from where it rested on his thigh, right drumming against his leg, "Brown is currently on a mandatory field trip for one of her college classes ad will not be returning home just just over another week."

"I see," A pen scratching along paper, "I will have to inform your father of this."

Tim is inturupted from snapping (Against the claim of Bruce being his father for the hundreth time or in fear of his therapist talking to Bruce about him he couldn't decide) when Damian once again speaks for him, "No need. Father is already aware of the situation at hand, and after a very...unpleasent experience that caused Timothy great distress at my father's hands, I have gladly taken over temorary watch of Timothys health and well being until Brown returns."

"Wai-"

Caroline leans in, sharp smile on her lips, "Is that so? I suppose I will need to speak with Mr. Wayne about what we discussed when Tim first began seeing me again," The way she says it sounds like this wouldn't be the first time shes called Brucie Wayne in for a meeting, possibly a scolding from what Tim could tell, and the releif that hits him shines Caroline in a different light.

Damian's returning smile is sweet, revengeful, "I'm quite sure my father would be thrilled to hear from you Ms. Rover."

"So, Damian," Caroline leans back in her chair, hair brushing the tops of her shoulders with the movement, "I assume this means you will be staying with Tim until further notice?"

"Of course, I already have a bag packed and in his car."

Tim stared, in pure disbeilife, for exactly 2.53 seconds before standing, "How did you get into my car!"

Damian waves him off with a hand, similar to how he had done to Caroline earlier, "Do you really think there's a car I _can't_ get into? Do you truely think so little of me Timothy?"

"There's no way you're coming home with me demon," Tim growls, hands in fists, ready to attack.

The look Damian sends him is pointed, "Under Pennyworth's orders I am. Or would you like to go against his words?"

_How dare he use Alfred against me._

Tim sneers and Caroline lets out a light hearted chuckle.

"Well then, I'm afraid our time is up boys. Damian, if you would be so pleased to keep me updated on Tim's condition until our next appointment," She moves to the door and opens it before glancing over her shoulder at Tim, "And Tim, please do try to enjoy your time with your brother," Her smile is sickening, "Think of it as a bonding experience."

_Bonding. With Damian._

_Hell no._

But the stare she was sending him left no room for argument. And if there is _anything_ Tim has learned in the few short months with the older woman...

It's to not challenge her.

So he leaves the office with a brat in tow, gets into his car, fights back a snarl when Damian slides into the passenger seat, and drives home.

Once there, Damian instantly begins snooping through his kitchen, peeking into his cabinets and fridge and frowning in distain.

"Can you nor Brown be trusted to eat healthy?" He questions with the raise of an eyebrow aimed in Tim's direction.

Tim rolls his eyes, setting his keys down on the counter, "Steph tries."

"Trying isn't succeeding," as soon as the words passed his lips Damian stilled. From behind Tim watches Damian tense up, shoulders easily meeting his ears and knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the fridge door. 

Green eyes flick over his shoulder, scanning down Tim's form before pausing on his wrists, currently covered by the sleeve of Tim's sweater. It only lasted a second, but Damian's gaze appeared heart broken before moving back to the opened fridge in front of him, pushing a half gallon of milk out of the way to appear further inside.

"Anyways, we will need to go shopping for actual food. I refuse to survive off of frozen waffles and popcorn during the rest of my stay."

Tim snorted, "Not to brag kid, but I'm not exactly a cook."

If Damian was bothered by Tim calling him a kid he didn't show it, "No worries, Mother made sure I knew how to cook the basics. In case our current chief needed to be killed and we could not fire a new one right away. Then Pennyworth was happy to take over my lessons once I was brought to the manor and, in his words, 'Learned better manners'."

Tim nearly broke out in laughter. He could so clearly imagine the old butler standing in front of the child assassin, demanding a please and thank you and denying him dessert until he followed through.

"You could also use the fresh air."

"I get plenty of fresh air."

"Aside from your sessions, and breaking your early retirement, where else have you gone since leaving the hospital Timothy?"

The question was met with silence while Tim struggled for a response. Damian didn't give him nearly enough time (He's almost positive Steph must have dragged him _somewhere_ ) the smaller boy was already back at the front door, once again slipping his shoes on.

"Can't we just go tomorrow? It's getting late."

He heard a quite 'tt' from under Damian's breath, "It is barely 5 o'clock. Plenty of time to do enough shopping to last until tomorrow morning's farmer market. When we can purchase more nutritional and fresh produce."

Farmers market? Who said anything about a farmers market? Tim didn't even know Damian _went_ to a farmers market.

The demon stood straight and patient as he waited for Tim, "I am also young, and thus require entertainment of some sorts. Quoting Grayson, we shall have one of these 'movie nights' he is always insisting upon me."

Tim remembers Dicks famous 'movie nights' well. The multiple bowls of popcorn, because Dick could eat 3 bowls of the stuff by himself, the multitude of sweets and junk food and cans of soda (Always empty by the end of the night) spread around them. 

He wont deny he misses them.

"Fine," Tim grumbles, picking his keys up again, "But if we are doing a movie night, we are going to do it right," He declares, just catching a hint of a smile on Damian's lips before they march out of the apartment.

It wasn't until one of the best meals he's had since leaving the manor, eating a (Probably too large) portion of vegan ice cream, and is half way into the second movie of the night (Brave, which is apparently Damian's favorite Disney movie, who knew) that he'd completely forgotten about patrol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want everyone to know I had to rewrite this whole chapter because my wifi disconnected so when I went to post it just deleted the whole thing. I am excited to say I have been a busy bee in the background, and after this story is finished I will have a couple of others things to post for this universe. But as always, let me know if I missed anything, eat today if you haven't already, and enjoy!


	6. Chapter 6

Tim wakes up.

Which is (not) surprising.

Even before Batman and Robin, nightmares have always been a good friend of his. Flashes of his parents walking out the door and never returning, monsters chasing him throughout his empty house, you name it. But being Batman's side kick, it means you end up seeing a lot of messed up things. Your nightmares learn to get creative, and after the first time you are hit with fear toxin, you learn, in a sense, to get used to them as much as you can. 

But the past couple years have hit him harder than anything else in his life. Bubbling green and his friends pale sagging faces and Bruce screaming that he didn't save him fast enough, it's all weighed down on his chest more than anything else Tim has witnessed during his time as a vigilante.

But this time...

It wasn't _his_ nightmare that woke him up.

The whimpers echoing down the hall from his guest room were the quietest of things, and when he entered the room he struggled to place the sound to a source until his eyes fell on the small bundle of blankets curled into a tight ball in the center of the bed.

Tim paused.

Is this really something he should be doing? The brats tried to kill him when he's completely awake and aware, who _knows_ what he will do off pure instinct if Tim were to wake him up.

A shuddering gasp drifts from the mattress, a poof of black hair appearing from beneath the sheets.

_I'm going to regret this._

"Damian," Tim keeps his voice at a low volume. Maybe if he doesn't sound like a threat, Damian wont treat him like a threat

_Well now you're just lying to yourself._

Another pained sound leaves Damian's lips as Tim carefully sits on the edge of the bed. This is why the kid shouldn't have followed him home. He should be back at the manor, ya know, with someone who _actually_ knows how to comfort people?

Reaching forward, he sets a hand on the young boys shoulder, managing a couple seconds of feeling the trembling form under his touch before he's jerking back, a small hand gripping his wrist tight enough that Tim worries he will have a bruise tomorrow.

The kids eyes were feral as they met Tim's, wide and glazed over and scared as though still partially locked in his nightmare.

Tim clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to pull free of the grip and throw a punch. Damian's obviously not aware of what he's doing, Tim shouldn't retaliate.

"Hey," He softens his voice, with an underline of authority, "I need you to let go of my wrist."

Damian's gaze flicks between Tim, and Tim's wrist that he still has in a secure hold, mouth opening as though going to speak before his grip loosens, but doesn't let go.

Tim watches, curious and confused, as Damian instead inspects his arm, thumb grazing over one of the several scars on his skin. He thinks Damian might have whimpered again at the sight of it, small hands shaking.

"Damian..." Tim swallows, "Did you have a nightmare about me killing myself?"

The boy's eyes flash up to his again before he jerks away as though Tim had burned him, shaking hands now buried in his lap.

Thankfully, Damian seemed more aware of himself and his surroundings when he speaks, "You should have just ignored me..." He whispers, voice rough and croaky, and Tim frowns.

He weighs the options in his brain before scooting further on the bed, "I'm no Dick, but I know what it's like to deal with a nightmare by yourself. I...didn't think it affected you this much."

Damian snorts, turning his head to look at the wall and resting his cheek on his knee. The action is so unfamiliar to what Tim would normally associate with Damian, that he's reminded of another time Damian's actions caught him off guard. Of distant eyes and fidgeting hands and shoulders that slumped like they held the weight of the world, or at least the weight of _Damian's_ world, "You don't think anything affects me."

"You don't react to anything unless it's with anger. What else am I suppose to think?"

Damian's small form slouches, fingers tugging at the seams of his PJ pants, "You never had an urge to learn otherwise. Not like Father or Grayson."

Tim knows he should be reading between the lines, trying to figure out what Damian's really trying to tell him, but he barely manages to hold back a growl, "I was a bit preoccupied trying not to get murdered by you. And them you kinda got me fired, and then I spent the next 6 months bringing back your dear old dad."

"Our," Damian corrects.

Tim's eyes narrow, "What."

Damian shifts ever so slightly, and Tim realizes he's been watching their shadows move along the wall, "Our father. You spent 6 months bringing back our father. And no one ever thanked you for that, I am sorry."

He thinks his heart stops in his chest.

No.

He _knows_ his heart has stopped. Because there's no way the demon spawn of demon spawns was _apologizing_ to him. Not for that. Not for something he wasn't even a part of.

Because that's just it, isn't it? He was kicked out of his home after the death of two of his best friends and his girlfriend, fired from the one thing he had left after Bruce's disappearance, _suffered_ through mission after mission, through the League of Assassins and the League of Spiders, forced his way through challenge after challenge to bring Bruce back, to bring Bruce _home._

and Bruce never even thanked him.

He had tried, at the beginning of the week (Has it really only been a week?) on top of that roof, but only after hunting him down to scold him, to tell him he didn't trust Tim enough to be on the streets. Like Tim wasn't able to finish cases Bruce himself couldn't, like Tim didn't take over WI for him while Bruce was lost in the time stream, and did it _better._

But here Damian was, the last person Tim ever thought would say such words to anyone, Dick included, telling him exactly what he's always begged to hear.

"Timothy...?" Damian was facing him again, frowning, concern peeking just around the edges of his eyes.

"Hmm?" Tim choked out, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"You are crying."

Tim raised a hand to his face, wiping it across his cheek and feeling the wetness leaking from his eyes.

He _was_ crying.

"Oh." 

Damian continued watching as Tim struggled to keep the tears at bay, helplessly rubbing the sleeves of his shirt against his eyes.

A heavy weight landed against his chest as Tim broke down sobbing.

"I am sorry timothy. I am so thankful for you bringing him home. Bringing him back. Thank you."

Damian didn't hug him. Simply leaned his weight against him and rested his forehead on his collar bone. Tim could feel his warm breath through his shirt. In fact, the kid was a little furnace all by himself, warm and breathing and _alive._

"It will be ok..." The words were whispered against the fabric of his shirt and Tim isn't even 100% sure he was suppose to hear them.

"You will be ok.."

When Tim woke up the next morning he was still in the guest bedroom, blanket pulled up to his chin, and the smell of breakfast drifting from the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter which I apologize for. But, if anyone read 'I'll Always be Here to Catch You' I'm excited to say the second part of that series is up and I'm really proud of how it turned out! Enjoy, take care of yourselves, and let me know if I missed anything!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stephanie. Quit laughing."
> 
> The girl on the other end of the phone only continued to chuckle into his ear. Tim rested a hand on his hip, eyes scanning the crowd for the small tuff of raven hair giving away Damian's location among the huge crowd that had gathered at the market place in the last half hour.
> 
> He had managed to momentarily excused himself when Steph had called a few minutes earlier, telling the smaller boy that he would be back in a few and taking the short huff of breath Damian had given him as an ok, leaving him to continue scanning over the different fruits and vegetables available for purchase. After explaining that Damian had woken him at 6 in the morning to go to said market, and that the brat was currently taking over their guest bedroom, Stephanite had promptly burst out into laughter.

"Stephanie. Quit laughing."

The girl on the other end of the phone only continued to chuckle into his ear. Tim rested a hand on his hip, eyes scanning the crowd for the small tuff of raven hair giving away Damian's location among the huge crowd that had gathered at the market place in the last half hour.

He had managed to momentarily excused himself when Steph had called a few minutes earlier, telling the smaller boy that he would be back in a few and taking the short huff of breath Damian had given him as an ok, leaving him to continue scanning over the different fruits and vegetables available for purchase.  After explaining that Damian had woken him at 6 in the morning to go to said market, and that the brat was currently taking over their guest bedroom, Stephanite had promptly burst out into laughter. 

He growled into the phone, Steph gasping out for breath before finally gaining control over herself again, "I don't know what you want me to say Tim. Enjoy it. Think of it as time to actually get to know the demon brat."

"Ha-ha," Tim responded, hand on his hip, "Get to know the brat? There's nothing _to_ know about him."

A soft hum, "Well, from what you told me, there's actually quite a lot you don't know. The fact that he has emotions has to be surprising to you."

Tim's thoughts momentarily drift back to the previous night. Tears and trembling bodies. A small hand that gripped his wrist like Damian was afraid Tim would disappear otherwise.

"I just don't think its necessary for him to stay with me while you are gone. I'm a grown adult and I can take care of myself just fine."

Tim can almost imagine Steph's stern nod, hear her footsteps as she paces back and forth in her hotel room. Tim kicks at a loose chunk of concrete that had at some point chipped of the corner of the sidewalk.

"Have you considered...that this whole thing wasn't about you as much as it is about him?"

Tim raises an eyebrow, "What?"

"Just think about what we know," Steph clicks her tongue, "The kid basically hunted you down right? And it's obvious he hasn't been handling the past two months well," (Tim's silently thankful she didn't point out that he hasn't been handling the past 2 months any better), "Maybe this whole thing is more about him struggling to show you he cares, that what happened shook him a lot. Maybe this isn't about him 'babysitting' you at all."

The words made him pause mid-kick. Was Damian really trying to show his emotions, in a round-about way, but the only way he knew how? Back when the brat had first arrived at the manor, It was obvious to everyone he had no idea how to respond to positive reactions, or how to return them himself. Dick had made a plethora of comments on how Damian just didn't know how to show he cared, and Tim knew it was something the two worked heavily on while he was halfway across the world.

"Maybe..."

A sigh, "I'm not saying what the kid has done is ok, and if I find anything out of place in my room when I get back I wont hesitate to loose my shit on him, but I truly think this is the brats way of communicating. I mean, his parents _are_ Talia and Bruce. He doesn't really have a lot of healthy role models on his side of things ya know?"

Tim nods despite knowing she cant see, opening his mouth to respond when the phone is yanked from his grasp.

"Brown," Damian's short cut voice hits Tim's ears before he even looks down at him, "You have now been on the phone with Timothy for approximately 20 minutes. I, unfortunately, do need assistance in carrying the groceries to _your_ apartment and must insist your little chit chat be halted until further notice. Good day," He huffs before hanging up the phone and passing it back to Tim.

"You can't just go and take my phone just because you're annoyed Damian," Tim growled, pocketing the device and watching Damian pick up one of the three bags he had previously dumped at Tim's feet.

Damian only shrugged, beginning to walk forward and paying no mind to Tim's words. Tim gathered the straps to the other two reusable bags before following after the shorter, "You told me the call would be short. I had finished my shopping and knew I could not carry everything to your apartment by myself. Would you rather I wait for you to return in a huge crowd and I no one tried to abduct me?"

_ He does know he's Robin, and could very easily take down a grown man three times his size right? _

Tim doesn't speak the words outload, simply narrowing his eyes at the back of Damian's retreating form, "Explain to me again why you woke me up so early, just to drag me shopping that we could easily just have ordered from any average grocery store?"

"Supporting the local gardeners and farmers is good for the environment Timothy. To much of what you may find in any store has gone through a multitude of different trucks and processes before it reaches the store. This is a healthier, fresher option. And if I may, I suggest you make a habit out of it."

"A suggestion huh? That's a first."

Emerald eyes flicked over the younger boys shoulder, eyebrow raised in annoyance but the smallest of smirks on his lips betraying the stare, "Even I can make suggestions Timothy. Not everything I do has to be a demand of service."

Tim didn't comment further, picking up his pace as the two of them strolled through the park on their way home.

It was a pleasant day for once, a bright blue sky with a few stray clouds above them, a comforting breeze taking away the rushing heat that always came with Gotham's springs. Family's were having picnics on the grass surrounding the filled playgrounds, and people were playing fetch with their dogs farther off in the background. Tim was honestly fighting the urge to collapse onto the welcoming blanket of green and enjoy the day himself.

It wasn't until he ran into Damian's back that he finally paid attention to where he was walking. Tim raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to ask why they stopped when he noticed Damian's stiff posture, following the kids wide stare to a few feet in front of them where a man was making his way towards them.

Tim was almost disappointed in himself for how long it took him to notice the poster in the mans painfully tight grasp, frowning in disgust at the imagery painted on the sign.

Tim knows there wasn't much that could bother Damian. He himself has tried a multitude of tactics to get under the youngest's skin. But the way Damian took the smallest of steps backwards into Tim, the confronting man marching towards them with a gaze filled with hatred and lips that Tim could already hear spitting out words like _terrorist_ were enough to have a familiar rage begin burning under Tim's skin.

He set the bags down just as the man came to stand in front of them, his big meaty paw reaching out (To what? Slap Damian? Grab his arm? _Hurt_ him?). 

Tim instead held onto the mans wrist, easily sliding between the two and trying to focus on the man instead of the quiet whimper he surely heard come from Damian's lips.

"Hello, is there something we can help you with?"

The flabbergasted stare the man (Enemy) sent him told Tim that he hadn't even noticed Tim was with Damian when he spotted the younger. This stranger was planning on cornering Damian, thinking he was alone. An _11 year old boy._

Tim knew that he held a form of privilege. Being born as high up as he was, with his father being German and his mother Hungarian. Knew people in the past have gone after Dick for his heritage, and from this scene alone, Damian also.

"He's-"

"My brother," Tim interrupted with a smile. "And I suggest you turn around and never look or come near him again otherwise I swear I will punch that look right off your face," Tim knew he wasn't very threatening looking, but with the small crowd growing around them because of his raised voice, it wasn't hard to guess the man would back off.

The man huffed, tucked the vial sign close to his body to hide it from others, and shoved passed Tim to disappear into the mass of people.

Tim hopes his smile had softened enough by the time he turned back to Damian, gathering his two bags again and motioning for Damian to continue walking, "We really should be getting home and get these all put away huh?"

Damian stared at him a moment longer before nodded, but they only made it a block before being stopped by a cross walk. A small tug on his sleeve had his gaze moving back down to Damian, the boy staring forward but holding a hand out to him.

"Is it not correct that children need to hold a hand while crossing the street?"

Tim paused, warmth spreading throughout his chest as he took the offered hand, "Didn't know you were finally considering yourself a kid Damian."

Damian huffed (Chuckled?) before dragging them both into the street, "I never claimed that _I_ was the child of the two of us."

Tim couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up. Maybe this was Damian's weird, strange way of showing he cared. Maybe what Dick had said back then, that Damian simply didn't know the words or actions to properly express said feelings, held some truth after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH. Ok, sooooo its been awhile. yeahhhh I don't really have much of an excuse.... but there's another chapter! And in the original draft that I had previously created this chapter wasn't even suppose to exist, so the next one will probably be the last chapter in this fanfiction (With short one shots probably to be added to the series later on).   
> As a proud bi, I can very loudly state the amount of disgusted stares and volatile words I have had sent my way while I'm public, whether because of how I'm dressed, or eve just because I am holding my friends hand. I've never understood people who think they have a right to march up to some random person and insult them just because of who they are, and I definitely think Tim would be just as pissed as I am every time I am part of, or witness, such a situation.  
> But yeah, have some Tim and Damian bonding time, sorry for like, the super long wait, and enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

Before Tim knew it a week had passed and the night before Stephanie's return was upon them.

During all of which Damian had actually been...pretty nice.

The regular banter and bickering remained. But it was nice to have someone who knew what they were doing in the kitchen around, despite the fact that said 'cook' was only 12 and probably shouldn't be allowed to use the stove (Not that he would ever tell Damian that to his face). Early mornings with walks through the park, calming afternoons of reading in silence with a mug of coffee (Or tea), and nights filled with movies and board games and stupidly childish arguments that ended with both of them chuckling to themselves.

Even a whole day was spent at a near by rescue shelter, Damian having been very determined that the two of them could offer plenty of assistance to the under-paid workers (And if Tim donated a large sum of money to said rescue later that night no one had to know).

This has probably been the most calm and relaxed he's been in months...Maybe years.

But this last night was important.

Because Tim was insistent on patrolling.

"No," Was Damian's reply when Tim mentioned getting ready, the smaller boy crossing his arms.

Tim had snorted, rolled his eyes, "No offence Damian, but you can't really stop me. I'm an adult remember?"

"Timothy, We have spent the whole week not patrolling. I do not see why you must tonight of all nights."

He raised an eyebrow, "Because Steph returns tomorrow and she will ground me from ever doing it again." 

"You are suppose to be retired."

"No," A pause. Damian can't be serious, can he? "I'm 'suppose' to be on break, which I think is long over. I stayed and relaxed and ate and slept every day since you've been here. This is my last night of freedom."

Damian's lips pressed into a thin line, obviously thinking his words thoroughly before continuing, "Perhaps it would be best for you to not return to the uniform." 

Tim was quick to turn on his heel to face the younger, eyes wide, "What?"

The boy sitting on the couch in front of him fidgeted (Something Tim noticed him doing quite frequently over their shared time together), fingers drumming against his leg, "Timothy...What we do out there is dangerous."

"I'm aware of that, thank you," Tim snapped in response, words short and direct. How could he? Tim thought he understood, at least to some extended. The need to feel useful, to do _something._ This is what Tim was born for! Tim didn't know how to do anything else! This was all he had _left._

"I am not trying to insult-"

Tim interrupted him with a humorless laugh, "No, you just think I cant do my job right," His eyes narrowed, "That you can do it better. Because you're the blood son right? I'm just left over trash on the side of the curb."

Damian stared, emerald eyes wide and hand frozen on his thigh, "Was this whole week just some fucked up way for you to get me to quit? Some scheme to get me out of the way faster? Is Bruce proud? Did Dick help you with the idea?"

"Grayson and father didn't-"

"They didn't want their precious baby alone with the crazy guy who tried to off himself? Didn't want you _near_ me in case I tried again huh?" When he would think back on this moment later, Tim would realize Damian's trembling, the way his hands pressed against his legs to keep them from shaking. But right now?

Right now he didn't give a fuck.

"Timothy-"

"No!" He shouted, hands balled into fists at his sides, "I'm done with your games Damian! Just go back to the manor and leave me alone!" 

He turned, marching away and feeling uncomfortably satisfied with how loudly the door to his bedroom slammed shut.

Maybe Steph would be getting a noise complaint from the neighbors after all.

Only it was as he was finishing getting ready, taking time make sure nothing had been tampered with during Damian's stay, did footsteps shuffle across the hallway outside and pause at his door.

No one tried to open it, but Damian's voice came from the other side, hesitant, "Please Timothy...May we just sit down and talk?"

Tim growled low in his throat. Now he want to talk? What about when he first came into their lives? Tim goes for a handshake and instead gets pushed up and over the railing of the Batcave and falls. Tim wants to share the exciting news to everyone about how Bruce was alive, and only gets insults and screaming matches until he's forced out of his own home. Tim _brings Bruce back_ and he isn't even offered the position of Robin again, is outcasted from the family as a whole.

He wants to laugh.

"No more talking," Is what he does instead, before opening the window to his room and jumping out.

Tim knew it wouldn't be long before Damian would be siccing the rest of the Bats on him, but he didn't realize how fast they would actually reach him till blue was attempting to herd him to a low roof (In case he decided to jump was Tim's guess) from the corner of his eye.

"Leave me alone Nightwing," Tim barked, twisting mid-flight to throw a smoke bomb at the figure behind him.

From the grunt that hit his ears Tim knew he had hit his mark, taking the cover time to run and curl up behind an AC unit on the following rooftop.

He knows Nightwing lands despite not hearing any footsteps, "Red, come on, lets talk about this."

Tim only tightens his ball in attempt to vanish all together. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Why couldn't everyone just leave him _alone?_

"Robin didn't mean to upset you. It wasn't some elaborate plot of his I promise! B and I didn't even want him going to your apartment but he just wouldn't listen."

Before Tim can stop himself a bitter laugh escapes his lips, echoing around them, "Thought I would off myself with the brat in the apartment? Thought I would contaminate him?"

"No!" Was Nightwings quick reply. Tim wonders where Batman is hiding, "We wanted to give you space Red. More than anything. We wanted you to heal at your own pace without interference because we though that's what you wanted."

"So you followed me on patrol? Had _Batman_ follow me on patrol? Went through my home and trashed it in search of my suit? Had my roommate keep tabs on me for you? _That's_ letting me heal at my own pace?"

The words were met with silence. If Tim listened hard enough he could hear the barest hint of gravel shifting as Nightwing walked.

"We are just worried about you buddy..." A pause, a louder shuffle of gravel, "I know we haven't done much to prove that, but we want to. I want to. Robin wants to."

Tim can taste the blood from his lip on his tongue from biting it so hard. His voice cracks on the words, "Why cant you guys just leave me alone..."

He thinks he hears a sniffle from Nightwings direction, "Tim..."

Tim lets out a sob of his own, attempting to muffle the sound with his hands but failing, "Everything was just find when you guys ignored my existence. Bruce was back and happy, the demon was doing great as Robin...I was fine by myself."

Hesitation, "Then why did you try to kill yourself? if everything was fine, if you were _ok_ , why did Damian find you like he did?"

The air in his lungs leave all at once, tears stopping at the thought.

"Tim," Nightwings voice was so soft, so close, "Please...You don't have to come back to the cave or the manor. You don't have to talk to Bruce or me or Steph or Damian or anyone. You don't even have to consider yourself part of the family, as much as I and everyone else desperately want you to. But we need to know that you are safe. That you're happy."

Tim tries so desperately to cling to the anger fizzling out in his chest, only to be replaced by a deep sadness that weight him down, that reminded him of his final days before he slid a knife across his wrists.

"I don't know what to do..." he admits with a weak whimper.

Nightwings voice was so gentle. So similar to how he would sound after Tim got hurt on patrol or after he would run to the manor crying after something his parents had said or did. And it wasn't until a hand touched his arm almost timidly that Tim realized he had been found.

"That's ok...Because you are Tim Drake. The smartest, most clever little bird I've ever had the honor of meeting," And when Tim looked up it wasn't Nightwing looking down at him, but Dick. Maskless and blue eyes showing so much worry and concern that it almost seemed to seep from the fingertips just barely grazing his arm.

"I'm not ready to be your brother again Dick," The words stung just leaving his mouth, but Dick's small smile told him the older man had already known.

"You might never be. And that's ok. But I want to ask for the chance to prove that I still consider you my little brother. To prove that I care about you even if you might not think so."

Tim's eyes returned to his lap.

"I'm willing to wait until you're ready. And I know Bruce will too. Whether it's once of us at a time, or starting small and working your way up from there."

Would that be ok? Would he be able to handle someone leaving him again if they decided he wasn't worth it?

"Timothy."

Dick and Tim's eyes both snap up to land on Damian, the lenses of his eyes wide and and chest heaving as he lands on the roof of the building.

"Damian," Dick shifts closer to the youngest, "Tim needs a little space. Now isn't-"

But Damian wasn't listening, marching towards them, nearly pushing Dick off to the side in order to stand in front of him.

His hands were in fists at his sides, and his mask was already peeling over (A tell tale sign that he didn't take any time to actually put it on), and its only when he gets closer that Tim realizes that Damian is wearing the bare necessities of his Robin uniform, the red chest guard almost completely hidden away with a large, dark blue sweatshirt that looks like it might belong to Dick, gloveless hands just managing to peek out of the sleeves.

A beat passes with the two of them just staring at each other before he speaks, "Running away like that was childish and brash and shout never happen again."

Dick frowned, reaching a hand out to grab Damian's shoulder who just shrugged it off.

"I know you can handle yourself," Damian curls inward slightly, shoulders tense, "You were raised under Batman, trained with my grandfather and outsmarted him. I do not doubt your abilities in the field..."

Tim's eyes widen as he notices the tears running down Damian's cheeks.

"But what would I have done if you decided not to keep your promise to Brown? What if I had found you on the ground of some disgusting alley? What if-"

And before he knew it Tim was reaching forward to pull him into his arms, heart pounding in his ears as he stared at Dick from over the kids shoulder while Damian clung to him, cold fingers gripping the buckles of his suit tight.

Neither of them said anything, the only sounds being Damian's near silent sobs against Tim's chest. Tim couldn't even bring himself to look down at the boy, still staring at Dick in disbelief.

Because Damian was _crying._ Over _him._ Because he was _scared._

Because he thought Tim was going to try and kill himself again.

After what felt like hours Damian's cries turned into stuttering breaths and the weight on his chest grew heavier as Damian rested his whole body against him.

"Damian..." Dick's voice was almost as gentle as it had been with Tim earlier, "Why don't we go home and let Tim go back to his apartment to get some rest?"

The sound that left the youngest boys lips resembled a growl, curling closer to Tim in retaliation.

"Timothy needs someone here," Stern. To the point, "He needs someone here with him. You shall return home, and I shall stay until Brown has returned to replace my position."

Damian must have been sending Dick a glare from where he sat, because Dick's eyes flickered between them as though asking if it was alright.

"He's ok...I'll..." Tim paused. He'll what? Watch Damian? Call Dick? "I'll see you around."

Dick took the response for what it was, eyes warm and gentle and sad, stepped back before nodding, and taking a running start off the edge of the rood, grapple shooting out just in time to catch him.

Tim, on the other hand, took a few more moments to collect himself and shifted his shoulders forward, "Come on brat. I'm beat and kinda craving the left overs I know you hid in the fridge from the other night."

But Damian doesn't chuckle or snort at the joke like Tim had hoped. He stays where he is, voice tense and wrecked from crying, "You weren't going to right?"

"Going to what?" Tim feels like he already knows the answer.

"If...If Grayson hadn't arrived when he did. If I hadn't alert him as soon as you rushed out..." Emerald eyes raised to look at him, "Would you have killed yourself?"

Tim frowns. Damian's cheeks were bright red, mask completely peeled off and now sitting in their combined laps, eyes swollen from crying and still drying tears on his face.

"No," He croaks out, swallowing hard, "No...I don't think so."

Damian gives a sure nod, "Good. I would have to insist a longer sentence for you once Brown returns if you did."

The words had him chuckling before Damian was standing, Tim following suit.

"Lets go home yeah?"

Tim caught a smile on Damian's lips.

"Yes. Lets."

\----One Year Later----

"Yes Steph, you really need to stop worrying so much," Tim sighed into the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, shifting the bag in his arms enough to grab it with his hand.

The girl on the other end of the call snorted, "Just don't do anything stupid."

Tim rolls his eyes despite knowing she can't see him, "I wont."

He can almost hear the smirk in her voice, "Promise?"

A pause lasting long enough for him to kick the door of his car shut, "I promise."

"I'll text you every hour so I expect updates, and don't get to wild! If I have to come and pick you up because you got wasted your grounded!"

"I'm not even old enough to drink yet Steph, and besides, it's just a short dinner. Maybe a movie if someone suggests it. I'll be fine."

There's another short laugh from her end before she seems to sober up, "Tim?"

He hums as he steps up the stairs.

"I love you, you know that right?"

The silence doesn't surround him long as the door to the manor opens and Dick envelopes him in a big huge. From over his older brothers shoulder he sees Damian pouting off to the side, his arms crossed. Behind them are Alfred, the old mans gaze gentle and welcoming, and Bruce, who stands watch over them with his own heart-warming smile.

"Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHH ok it is done! It is finally done!!  
> So, this is my first multi-chapter fic I've ever posted, and to say my talents sit better with one shots is probably an honest answer, but I'm happy to say that I finished one of the couple I have going!  
> A huge thank you to everyone who stuck around despite the slow, agonizing, updates, my irregular writing style, and just this crazy story that came out of no where who knows how long ago!  
> I do have at least one more thing that I want to post for this universe that is currently being written, and I do plan on working on my other multi-chapter fic next (In The Fold if y'all want to go check it out), so i hope to see many of you again soon!  
> Let me know if I missed anything, and I hope you enjoyed this wild ride!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to start with giving a huge thanks to everyone to commented or left a kudo or simply read and enjoyed the oneshot 'Stained Hands, Pink Water'. I'm going to follow up with saying that there was never meant to be a part two to that oneshot. When I wrote it I was literally prepared to just leave it as it was and probably never touch it again. And then I was like 'Fuck it I'll write another oneshot, clear some things up, progress the story just a little further....and now we are here, at the beginning of a multi chapter fanfiction I have basically been OBSESSED with the past week or so. I tried my hardest to play out this story in a way worthy of your praise and really hope you enjoy what's to come.  
> Let me know if I missed anything, and enjoy!


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